Part II: Project Hand in Hand

i walked down to the side of the pool and weaseled my way into the excitement. the kids were getting out, stripping off their suits, and drying off. everywhere i looked there were black naked bodies in no hurry to put on their clothes, instead flapping their arms or laughing at the grass. i stared because i was interested in the children, i was trying to figure out who had what. the kids with downs syndrome and autism stood out, but then there were others, and each had an aide chasing after them with a towel, calling their name and helping them put on their clothes.

i wondered if bob liked to sew, because all the outfits seemed like he could have been the designer.

i looked over and andrew had come down also. we made a little eye contact and laughed. "they do this every day" he said, walking over to me. "i guess it's sort of like their wind down before the night begins."

then a large gawky teen waddled over to him. she was dripping wet in her one piece suit. she stopped in front of us, looked up with an enormous grin, and attacked andrew with an even more enthusiastic hug. she held on to him so tight and didn't let go, while andrew stood there stiff in her grasp, laughing.

his first attempt to get out of her hold and stay somewhat dry didn't work, so he gave in and hugged her back.

this girl was funny. she new exactly what she was doing, and when she saw how dry and content i was she started to make her way over to me.

"oh no, no, ha hhaa ha..." i began to back away. she was approaching me like i was her helpless prey, stalking me. i remembered that for some big scary animals, you never turn your back and run. i stood my ground.

just as i did that she quickly found something more interesting and twittered off.

"that was easy!" i thought.

i looked from side to side. there were children everywhere stumbling over putting the correct foot in pant legs or getting their rubber diapers tied up. some of them seemed very familiar. a caretaker walked by me holding a little girl who had obviously been born with no limbs. she was just a stub of a human being, the size of a children's pillow, and she was shivering. he was searching for a towel and had her in both his hands, suspended out in front of him the way you might hand over an important award.

i had never seen a human with just a torso, so i looked more closely. staring is okay in this culture, and i've taken up the practice like second nature. she looked over at me so i smiled. she was beautiful. i wanted to know all about her life. how does somebody live like that?

one of my favorite jobs of all time was when i worked in the classroom, assisting a young boy in a wheelchair. he needed an aide in the restroom and i got the privilege of being that help for over a year. still one of the wisest children i know, he modeled for me how to live a life of patience and humbleness, not to mention he had a great sense of humor.

more often than not, our time in the bathroom was long, and we passed the minutes by talking about our dreams in between weird sounds and lots of laughing. he had quite vivid dreams, coupled with a love of chatting while on the loo, i got to hear a lot.

i got to hear of his dreams about running.

i cried hot tears during one of the sermons my pastor preached, one of his most memorable sermons, when his voice got shaky and loud and filled with emotion not at all contrived. he was talking about the promises of the gospel, the promises for the weak, the future of hope. he said "we need the gospel, we need the hope. we have the hope. hope that the lame will walk, hope that the..."

and i thought of my little friend. and i thought of the day his body will become the body he dreams of, i pictured him standing tall and proud at the tetherball pole out on the playground, and instead of the big golden ball flying over his head while he reached up his strong arms and tried to stop it, he'd get to stand there, tall and obtrusive, and hit the ball back beating every kid in school.

when i left for ghana he made me to promise to bring him back a trinket. he likes trinkets.

"okay, what do you want?" i asked.

he replied in his soft delicious voice "maybe a knife? or a spear?" then he nodded with satisfaction.

"we'll see about that."

the man was drying off the little girl and she wasn't shivering as much. it's uncomfortable to watch people shiver and any way i had been commissioned by a small boy to help him out with his frock. he wanted me to put it on him. i was certain he was using me so i lovingly threw it back at him. "you can do it!" i said. then he grunted and pushed the fabric bundle into my stomach. it dropped down to the floor and he screamed. "okay i'll help! c'm here." he wiggled into it and jumped around, then grabbed my hand and began to lead me up to where bob was sitting. "let's go this way" i said, pulling him in the opposite direction. he moaned and beat me with persistence, eventually delivering me at the feet of bob.

"heeeelllllllooo" bob said. "look who we have here! enjoy yourself down at the pool?"

i wasn't sure who he was talking to so i didn't respond, but when the boy ran off i was forced.

"so you do that every day?" i asked.

"the kids like routine, if you know what i mean. ha! so. kacie. i'm so happy that you all are staying! Inneke and i are heading to kenya in a few days, so we won't be here, but that doesn't mean you should leave. stay as long as you'd like! we like to travel."

"i almost was going to kenya in a few days too!" i said.

"you were? now why was that? oh kacie! kenya!?"

"well i actually wasn't going to stay in kenya, i was going to stopover in nairobi for a few hours. i bought a ticket to cameroon and the flights are so funky here in west africa, you know? either they fly you across the continent or..."

"cameroon? cameroon?" he started looking around like it was about to rain cameroon. "alright sweetheart, spill it. what are you doing in cameroon?"

"my family stays there and i want to visit them."

"oooohhh reallllyy? your mom and dad?"

"no my uncle, aunt, and cousins."

"whataretheydoin'downthere?"

"they live there, my uncle is the U.S. ambassador to Cameroon and his term is up pretty soon so-"

"AMBASSADOR??? your uncle is the ambassador??? you didn't tell me you have royal blood. is he blood?"

"yes."

"well than, that's great. wow kacie. okay, then if your uncle is the ambassador you need to tell him this. let him know that i smuggled a cuban in to the united states before, okay? just tell him, that the somebody in ghana, who used to work with people at the embassy here, smuggled in a cuban. that's all you need to say."

"i'll try to let him know."

"but really kacie, that was a long time ago and that cuban needed to get in."

"alright."

"so thats very interesting. kacie with the uncle who is the ambassador in cameroon. huh. let's go for a walk."

i wanted to know more about the project, so i started asking my questions.

"so how do you guys fund your village?" i asked.

"through people like you! people who come and stay in the guesthouses, and through the workshop. please tell me you've seen the workshop?"

"i haven't, but i've heard about it."

"oh darling! i'll find charity and have her bring you down to the workshop, you can't leave without seeing it. so we get a lot of income through that, and you know we sell postcards..."

"i saw them, they're really neat."

i wasn't lying. they were thick papered cards with very unique shots of ghana on the front. one was a picture of a completely shattered windshield, with the hands of a driver steering a bus load of people down the street. the next was a peaceful image of the pool, without the kids, but with a big sky about to pour down rain. there were a few rustic looking shots of boys playing football with no shoes against an old mud wall.

"sofie bought a lot of them." i said.

"charity!!! honey!!! there she is. charity? can you bring this lovely lady down to the workshop, show her around?"

"of course, and your friends?"

"they're somewhere around here. i'll go find them."

but right when i said that andrew came strolling in from around the corner, peering inquisitively into the round windowless padded room to our left. "oh you guys have a snoezelen"

"yesssssssssssss!" cried bob "you know about snoezelens? and you know the word! andrew... nobody knows that word. snoezelens. that's great!"

"what's a snoezelen?" i wanted to know.

"well come over here and take a look." andrew said. "see in here, there's the disco ball, and the floor pads, and feathers. it's a sensory room for the children. you just bring them in here and work with their senses. i learned about these back home and have worked a little in them."

"the snoezelen is a blast! okay charity is gonna take you kids down to the workshop, you can see where the kids get to work. i'll be around..." and he walked off.

sofie came and all of us walked to the other side of the property, where a large room with huge glass windows looked into a cheery workshop full of beads.

"this is the workshop." charity said. "the kids come here to make jewelry."

she explained the details of the project while we 3 slowly walked around the room and admired the dishes of beads, lined up with needles for the next days work.

on the far left wall was an entire corner dedicated to the finished results. necklaces and bracelets in every color of the rainbow hung in tidy rows. some of the jewelry was long and skinny, others fat and chunky. it was late afternoon and the light coming in from the window was hitting the glass beads just perfectly, lighting up their art like a beautiful stained glass window. i was mesmerized by all the craftsmanship, their work was truly beautiful.

"they're for sale. and at the end of each piece is a little tag telling you who made it."

i looked at the green glass necklace i had in my hand. a little name was scribbled at the end. cute. i had to buy some.

i spent the next hour trying to decide which necklaces to go with. sofie had swooped in, picked out the ones she liked, paid for them and left with charity and andrew to tour the areas where they made the beads themselves, and did weaving.

i layed all my choices out in rows, imagined them in different scenarios, and slowly eliminated.

andrew came back in. "still here?"

"ya, i'll be here for a while longer. i'm kind of indecisive." i knew that was true in some ways, but i wasn't spending so much time in the room because of that. i liked the feel of the workshop, the privacy, the charged realization of standing in a room full of work done by craftsmen and woman who are proving a society wrong.

give these people a space and the training, give them our trust and confidence and they can make rainbows.

i hoped the entire town of Nkoranza had been to this workshop.

the Hand in Hand community was sinking in to my pores. this place was free. people were loved, inspired, cherished. every one walked by with smiles on their faces. it was working.

i finally decided on a handful of precious jewelery. it was put in a brown paper bag, but the solid lump at the bottom turned the bag into more of a treasure chest. little jewels.

it was the first time in a long time i felt really good about consumerism, and about a lot of things that typically disturb me.

could this place be heaven?